Teenage Dirtbag
by Saphron
Summary: Nick is pining for his beloved Lindsey, who is off running around with a mysterious bad-ass--and getting in way over her head. Meanwhile, the geeks are dealing with their own dilemma--the sudden realization that no matter how hard they try members of the
1. Mission Impossible

**__**

Teenage Dirtbag

By Saphron

Note: This fic is **based on a true story**. For anyone who is interested in a little background, the new guy's character was inspired by a real life bad-boy (who shall remain nameless)--I am Lindsey. While of course this fic isn't what happened in reality, I did draw some real life experiences into the story. Fortunately however, me and this guy broke it off before much could happen (I wasn't really into the whole 'let's get high and have sex thing,' so there was some definite problems from the start). So yea. In case any of you care about my past-quasi-existent-love-life. Right. Read on.

__

Note II: Songfic! Yay! The song belongs to Wheetus and their affiliates, I claim nothing--thanks for letting me borrow it. All characters, setting, fun catch phrases, etc. belong to the Freaks & Geeks people. (And I changed "Noel" to "Lindsey," first stanza.)

__

Summery: Nick is pining for his beloved Lindsey, who is off running around with a mysterious bad-ass (who ironically seems to be, at least to teachers and parents, the epitome of Harvard-material)--and getting in way over her head. Meanwhile, the geeks are dealing with their own dilemma--the sudden realization that no matter how hard they try members of the opposite sex will never return their affection. And while Lindsey is living in a party world, and the geeks are hilariously trying everything to snag a few females, Jean and Harold are having a few marital problems regarding severe boredom in the sack. What could possibly happen to our all star cast?

~*~

"Damn locker," I couldn't help but swear. The stupid thing had refused to open _right_ when I had a math test in like, thirty seconds. Not that, you know, I'm into math or anything, but still. I need my calculator.

"Need a little help?" I turned my head in the direction of that soft voice--I didn't recognize it.

"Um, yea sure, that'd be great. Though I doubt you can get it to budge, it's like gone on strike or something." After a seemingly careless rap on the outside left corner frame--presto!--the door swung lightly open. "Oh wow, thanks!" I gushed, before remembering to tone it down a bit, "that was cool."

"Yea. Well, no prob. Call me if you ever need your door opened."

Oh my god--did he just _wink_ at me? I watched the retreating back of the tall, cobalt-eyed boy until he disappeared down the hall, a faint smile adorning my lips…oh damn--the bell! Where in the hell did I put my calculator?

~

"No way, Gina is way cuter than Jill, Bill! That's so obvious," Neal snorted, reaching for a plastic cup of greenish jiggling lumps. Er, was this supposed to be _Jell-O_? It was kinda too scary to be his all time favorite dessert. And that green resembled mold…ew…

"Nu-uh. She's really tall."

"So?" 

"Tall is good."

"Well if you like her so much why don't you ask her out?"

"Yea, you could take her to the Spring Formal."

Bill pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "maybe I will."

"And you could ask Cindy, Sam!"

"What? No way," Sam shuddered at the terrifying prospect of asking the girl of his dreams out, and the mysterious wobbling goo adorning his lunch platter.

"Why not?"

"She doesn't think of me that way…unfortunately."

"Yea, you're right, Cindy is a goddess, and goddesses don't date guys like us."

A collective sigh rang from the trio. The sad fact was simply true.

~

Nick stood hunched over on the burnout patio, humming the words to an unfamiliar tune under his breath. Lightly he sang,

__

Her name is Lindsey,

I have a dream about her,

She rings my bell.

I got gym class in half an hour,

And oh how she rocks,

In Keds and tube socks,

But she doesn't know who I am,

And she doesn't give a damn about me.

Sighing, he stared at his shoes, trying to shrug off the lingering thoughts of Her. Even though they had been broken up for two weeks now he still couldn't stop thinking about her. He felt so empty and lost--and angry, and sad. Normally breaking up with girls was just an inconvenience, because then he'd have to go to the trouble to find a new one, but with Her it was different…he had never been in love with anyone before, all these new emotions were so incredibly overwhelming.

He could just imagine Daniel snorting at him 'get a grip man! it's just a girl,' and he knew Daniel was right. He'd been moping around for half a month, and the only thing it accomplished was some serious depletion of his pot fund. In fact, he was completely out of it, which totally sucked because the weekend was coming up, and there was no way in hell he'd survive without a few joints to pick him up.

He unfurled from his slouching position and stood, scanning the wire fences of the school ground horizon. Ah! There was his dealer, lurking by the basketball hoops.

"Hey."

"Yo."

"I need a refill man, I'll pay tomorrow."

"Dude, I can't."

"Why not?"

"My old man like, totally annihilated my plant."

"No way!"

"Yea it sucks."

"But you have some backup right? I know you do, you gotta…I need it, I need…"

"Dude, look, I'm only telling you this cuz it looks like you'll shit your pants if you don't get any, but there's this new kid--word 'round the hood is he's got connections. Go ask him."

"Cool, thanks."

"Seeya."

~

Bill tapped took a deep--nasally--breath and walked over to a throng of freshman girls. Tapping the tallest female of the circle on the shoulder he stood, nervous and trying not to show it. When she still didn't acknowledge his existence he said loudly, "Um Jill?"

"Yea…?"

"Er I'm Bill, I sit behind you in math."

"Oh."

"Um, you're probably already going with someone else but--"

"Yea I am."

"Oh. How did you known what I was gonna ask? Can you read minds? Wow…"

"Look, I'm trying to save you some serious embarrassment here, I don't date guys like you. So bug off."

The snide remarks echoed throughout the hallway, the laughing cluster oblivious to Bill's crestfallen face. He walked away slowly, dejected, as Sam gave friendly looks of condolence, and Neal tried to smother his own hysterics.

"Nice try Bill."

"Yea, she was so stupid to turn you down. You're a great guy, she doesn't know what she's missing."

Sigh. Just because he was a great guy didn't make up for the fact that no matter how hard he tried, members of the opposite sex would never even give him a chance.

~

I'm lazily doodling in my notebook, like I always do during soc--there's really nothing better to do. As spirals and dancing monkeys formed on my neat lined paper, I was gazing out the window. I'd give anything to be out there, free from this endless drudgery… oh my god, there's that guy! The one who'd helped de-stuckinize my locker…what's he doing here?

"OK, new student. Take a seat kid," Mr. Firnelli grumbled, vaguely pointy towards the back of the room. He sighed, obviously as bored as his students, "Ok, moving on. George Washington was not only a good general, but also a good political leader…"

He's moving through the doorway, he's moving down the aisle…he's taking a seat behind me!

I heard a soft whisper in my left ear, "So what's your name again?"

"Er, I don't think I ever told you. It's Lindsey" Der! That was a stupid thing to say…God I suck at flirting…

"Yea, if you had told me I would have never forgotten it, it's so beautiful, like you."

Heh. Heheh. He called me beautiful…

"So should I just call you Mr. Charmer, or do you have a name?"

"Baby, you can call me whatever you want."

EEEEEEEE!!!! Red-alert--red-alert, hormones completely out-of-control…ok, deep breath, deep breath…quick! Say something flirtatious, "And you can call me, (818) 772-914."

"Ms. Wier! Do you care to share with the rest of the class your oh-so-interesting-conversation, which is apparently so much more important than the Declaration of Independence?

"Oh, er, um…I was just saying…George Washington was really good…er, yea. Heh."

"Riiiiiight. Detention today after school! Be there, Ms. Wier."

Oh my God--_detention_? I've like, never gotten detention in my entire life! Wow…I feel kinda rebellious…it's almost exciting, er, would be anyway, if my parents don't completely SLAUGHTER me!

~

"Hey dweebos, I heard you guys don't have any dates for the dance! Hahaha! That is so lame," Alan snorted contemptuously, secure in the knowledge that he had someone to take to the biggest school event of the year. 

"Nu-uh, we have dates!"

"Yea right, what are their names?"

"Um…Violet?"

"And Allison--"

"Rebecca!"

"Riiiight, yea well any girls that'd go with you nerdlings must be totally lame."

"Yea! Ugly nerd girls!"

"They are not! They'll be way better than your dates!"

"Yea right! I'd pay to see that. In fact, if you guys show up at the dance with dates who are hotter than ours we won't take your lunch-money from you for the next month, but if you losers have hooked up with total dogs or don't even bother to show? Ten weeks allowance."

"What? No way! That's almost fifty dollars!"

"But hey, it's a sure thing right? You said it yourself that your dates are hot."

"Er, right…"

"Chicken!"

"Bawk! Bawk!"

"Fine! It's a bet! We have dates. And they're good dates too, really."

"Seeya then dweebs!"

Three pairs of eyes blinked. Three mouths hung open. Three heads watched the retreating backs of Alan and his cronies. Two faces turned to meet the third. "Um, Bill? WE DON'T HAVE ANY DATES!!!"

"Yea…but we can get some."

"_Where?_ We've been trying for three weeks and nada, zero, zip, nothing, the dance is only a few days away! We are so dead! I don't have fifty dollars! Well ok, maybe that money Gramama Lilly gave me…but that's for college! I have to go to college! We are so dead!"

"Neal! Calm down, it's ok, we'll think of something. Now come on, English is starting."

~

__

Cuz I'm just a teenage dirt bag, baby

Yea I'm just a teenage dirt bag, baby

Listen to Iron Maiden, baby…with me. Ooh.

"Dude! What in the hell are you singing?"

"Oh, er nothing. Just some stupid little song."

"Whatever. Let's go, Kim will be totally pissed if we're late."

"Um…what about Lindsey, shouldn't we wait for her?"

"Nah, she's in the slammer. Let's go."

"What?"

"Detention dude."

"But Lindsey doesn't get detention!"

"She does when she's talking with guys in class. Now come _on_, Kim is gonna have my ass!"

"Right…"

~

"What do girls want?" The immortal query--around since the dawn of history. A question so frequently asked--whole books have been dedicated to it, and men have spent their lives attempting to answer it. They've come close, but really, no man will ever truly understand us. 

"Who knows."

"I'll never understand them."

"Me neither."

"Hey, why don't we ask our dads? I mean, they're all married so they must know something about girls…"

"That is the stupidest idea I've ever heard…let's do it!"

"Mission accepted…"

"Right, report back tomorrow with the scoop agent 64!"

"Mission underway…"

~

"So what are you doing Saturday night?"

"Ah…what are you doing?"

"Taking you to see a kick-ass band, I'll pick you up at eight."

YES!!!!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!! I just got asked out on my first real date (by a really, really hot guy)!!! (Nick only semi-counts, I mean we were together for like what? A week? And we barely did anything. All we did was kiss like, once, like quasi-making-out. Barely. Right, anyhow, I've moved on.) Lalala…life is fabulous…eek!--what do I wear to see a 'kick-ass band'? What about shoes--what about makeup? Cherry red lip-gloss or rose-red? I mean, the wrong lip-gloss could upset the entire outfit…ok, get a grip, I don't worry about fashion and how I look, that's for all those moronic superficial popular people…but still…WHICH FUCKING LIP-GLOSS? Oh my God…

~*~

Er right, not my best work but it was still fun to write. Besides, this isn't some serious dramatic fic, it's a fun and simple one, meant to be entertaining, and hence the plot is more important than the actual writing-style…or so I tell myself. **REVIEW** please, and tell me if you like this new story, and if I should bother continuing it, it'd be much appreciated. Gracias y hasta luego.


	2. Talking the Talk, Walking the Walk, & We...

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Ch.2-Talking the Talk, Walking the Walk, & Wearing the Right Boots

[Thursday night, the Weir House]

"Dad…could I talk to you?" Sam asked nervously, twisting his hands around his shirt hem.

"We are talking right now," came a gruff, muffled reply from the depths of a large, brown, Lazy-Boy.

"Er, I mean about girls."

"Well why didn't you say so?" The chair swung forward, the TV clicked off, and Harold swiveled to face his only son. "So what do you want to know?"

"Well, um, me and Neal and Bill aren't the type of guys girls like to go out with."

"Sure you are! You're smart, and funny. What girl wouldn't want to go out with you?"

Ignoring the automatic-parent-denial/my-child-is-perfect-whoever-doesn't-like-them-I'll-kick-their-butts syndrome, Sam valiantly went on, "but we're nerds. We play D&D and stuff, and we're not cool."

"Ahm. Well. I guess I can understand how you feel…I wasn't exactly Fonzy back in my day."

"Who?"

"Fonzy! You know, with the leather jacket and the motorcycle…damn motorcycle, they're death machines is what they are…everyone thought they we _so_ cool--until they DIED! Hump, well, never mind. Look son, girls may not be interested in you _now_, but trust me, when they grow up and want a steady reliable husband who works an 8-hour job to bring home the bacon--they're be crawling all over you." 

"Er…" That wasn't exactly a comfort, as it didn't help get a date for the Spring Formal, "thanks Dad."

"No problem son, you can always come to me with these sort of questions…oh look at that miss! He would have scored if he had one of our Elite-331 Hockey Sticks, I tell you that."

Sam sighed and drifted out of the living room. Clomping up the stairs he plopped on his bed and grabbed the latest issue of Batman & Robin, maybe he could learn something from them, they always seemed to get the girls in the end.

~

"Hey--Kim?"

"No, this is her mother, who's calling?"

"I'm Lindsey, her friend from school!"

"Oh Lindsey! Of course! Kim talks about you all the time, I'll put her on."

"Thanks. Hey Kim?"

"Yea?"

"Guess who just called!"

"How the hell am I supposed to know? Your mailman?"

"What? No, actually that new guy…he's taking me to see this kick-ass band on Saturday!"

"Cool. I've seen him around, he looks pretty hot."

"Yea…so, um, which lip-gloss do you think I should wear?"

"What?"

"Well, I have this cherry-red which is neat, but also this darker color, and I was wondering--"

"Wait. You called me at 9 o'clock at night to ask me what color lip crap you should wear on some date with some guy?"

"Er, yea."

"Do I look like a beauty consultant to you?"

"Um, no, but I just thought…ah, never-mind, bad idea, I gotta go."

"Wait. Seriously, what are you gonna wear?"

"Huh?"

"Like, clothes."

"Oh. Um. A skirt and blouse?"

"BLOUSE??? Are you kidding me?"

"Hey I'm new at this! I don't know what to wear!"

"You're going to a freakin' _club_--you need to look chic, and bad, and sexy. Do you own any leather?"

"What? No, I'm morally opposed. Do you know how many cows had to die…oh God--I'll look like such a looser! Help?"

"Duh. You can come over to my house and try on some of my stuff, or whatever. Just like, you know--community service. I'm a good person."

"Thanks so much! And I can bring over some of my Led Zeppelin CD's and we can just hang out."  
"I didn't know you're into Zeppelin, that's cool. Right, whatever. Seeya tomorrow."

"Bye."

~

"Jean! Jean, come in here. You should really see this."  
"What is it dear?"

"Look at those people! Can you believe TV these days?"

"Are they _monsters_?"

"Some kind of zombie-people or something, who knows. Anyhow, Wheel of Fortune is on next."

Jean sat down delicately and folded her hands in her lap, covering up their slight twitch. Her biggest fear was turning into a zombie…although, not quite in that context.

The TV screen glared blue, emitting a countless number of alpha-radiation particles. A woman's voice came from the speakers, "how often do you and your spouse make love? And when you do, is it fulfilling? Or does it seem--routine--even somewhat boring? If yes to these questions, then you're like many other married couples. We can help. Send us $29.99, and we'll send you the key to marital bliss, all in this video! Call toll-free this number, 1-800 596-love, once again, 596--"

"Bah! Who would actually pay for that junk? It's crap! Will you get me a glass of milk Jean? Thanks."

"Heh…of course dear." Jean held a thoughtful expression on her face as she opened the refrigerator door. 5-9-6…

~

[The next day, Friday, at school]

Nick glanced around and tucked the baggie into his pocket, shoving a few bills into the open hand before him. Whistling, he set off down the hall, happier than he had felt all day. Finally! Some pot, it sure took long enough.

"OOPH!" He was so caught up in his fantasies of getting stoned that he had completely forgot to look where he was going. Some girl was lying on the floor, books and papers scattered everywhere, and looking disgruntled and upset. "Uh, I'm really sorry, let me help you--"

As he bent down the bag of pot tumbled out of his coat pocket and landed atop the girl's math book.

"W-what's that?" she asked nervously, inching away.

"Uh…" the entire hall was staring now, whispering behind hands and locker doors.

"Millie? What are you doing on the floor?" I asked when I rounded the bend and spotted her sprawled there, next to Nick, of all people.

"Is that _drugs_? In school?" Millie asked, shocked and incredulous, barely registering my presence. 

And then I noticed it. The bag. Just sitting there, atop her math book. Normally I would have rolled my eyes at Millie's innocent naivete, but I was too angry. What in the hell was Nick doing crouched over a scared Millie, a sack of weed between them? (It was obvious who it belonged to.) I ignored him and reached down to help Millie up. Together we gathered her scattered stuff and shoved it all in her backpack. Kicking the dope away with my foot I grabbed her pre-calculus book, knowing she wouldn't dare touch it.

"Wait, Lindsey, I--"

I didn't acknowledge his existence. Jerk.

~

"So what did your dad say Neal?"

"He just gave me "the talk," _again_.

"Oh that sucks."

"Yea, tell me about it. How many times to I have to hear about the birds and the bees? That doesn't even make much sense, who cares about any dumb birds?"

"I think it's a metaphor."

"Whatever. How bout you Sam?"

Sam sighed, "he told me that girls won't like us now but they will, when we're in college and stuff."

"What? That doesn't help us win that stupid bet with Alan!"

"Yea, I know. Bill, you got anything useful?"

"He said that girls like gifts, like gold jewelry and stuff."

"But they're so expensive! I mean my allowance barely covers my Incredible Hulk collection."

"You guys--we're desperate--I think we have to do the unthinkable."

"What?"

"Yea, what are you talking about?"

"We have to--" Sam drew a deep breath, prolonging the final sentence--"give up comic books, for girls."

~

[Friday night, Kim's house]

"Oh my God! You look so great in that! I'm jealous."

"Really?" I asked shyly. I can't believe Kim convinced me to wear this. It's like, nonexistent. There's about three inches of cloth covering my entire body! And most of that cloth is black leather…including the knee-high boots.

"Yea, totally. You'll knock him dead."

I grinned. I did look pretty good, and kinda sexy, which _was_ the look I was going for.

"Now, walk."

"What?"  
"You gotta walk right in those boots."

"I do?"

"They are the coolest boots in the whole fucking world, they're totally right with your outfit, but they don't do shit if you can't _walk_ in them."

"How's this?"

"Not bad. Sway a bit more, you're sellin' ass here. There! Like that."

"I think I'm getting the hang of this…"

"Hey, you hungry?"

"Yea, a little. Trying on all these clothes and walking in these boots worked up my appetite."

"Rule 1: Just cuz you wear the stuff doesn't mean you talk it. NEVER say 'worked up an appetite,' that is like so 1950's. I'll go make some popcorn, and then we're gonna watch the sexiest movie in the entire world, if you don't know how to talk bad-ass by then you're hopeless."

Ten minutes later we were sprawled on the couch, and I was trying not to squeal from the raunchy film. I mean it was traumatizing, I had never seen so much skin in my entire life. Although God that lifeguard was built…er, did I just admit to liking porn? Oh God, what's next?

~

Nick grabbed his drumsticks and pounded the symbols. For half-an-hour he banged, screeched, and whacked his drum-set, letting the anger flow out of him. Someone in the hall who had spotted the pot ratted him out, the fucking bastard, and he had been called into Mr. Rosso's office for a little chat. Not that he minded letting Ross-the-Boss babble on for years and years, and not that he had lost thirty bucks worth of weed, but rather he found out the God-awful news that Lindsey, his beloved Lindsey, had a date tonight--with his _dealer_! (When he escaped from the Boss's clutches to hunt down a refill the new kid told him he was saving it. Saving it for what? For his _date_ that night. Really? Who was he seeing? Wait--Lindsey, LINDSEY WIER??) If she was angry that he had a bag of reefer in his pocket, how pissed would she be if she found out the guy she was dating was a freakin' pusher? God this sucked.

He screamed into an imaginary mike, 

__

Her boyfriends a dick

He brings drugs to school

He'd simply kick my ass if he knew the truth

He lives on my block

And drives an IROCK

And he doesn't know who I am

And he doesn't give a damn about me

~

"Jean, where are our kids?"

"Sam is sleeping over at Neal's tonight, he mentioned something a bout 'an emergency plan', and Lindsey is staying at Millie's house." (A little white lie.)

"Ah," Harold muttered.

"Do you know what that means Harold?"

"Kids are too damn sociable these days. When I was young we slept at our own houses! Who needs to sleep at someone else's? Their beds are just fine…they won't DIE if they sleep in them."

"It means we're _alone_ tonight!" Jean said, completely exasperated. "Just you, and me…"

He just caught on to her subtle inuendo…"oh, OH! Er, right, so we are."

"Why don't I just go slip into something--a little more comfortable?" She smiled what she hoped was a seductive grin.

"Er, ok."

But when she floated downstairs she saw her husband asleep in his reclineing chair, still holding the remote control.

"Damn it," Jean sniffled, surprised by her use of profanity (she just wasn't the cussing-type-of-woman). She sighed and slowly made her way upstairs too bed. Reaching for the phone, she dialed 5-9-6…

~

"Hey baby, hope in." There he sat, sprawled in the front seat, one arm resting lightly on the steering wheel, the other slung around the passenger seat. He looked so hot in that black leather jacket…Kim just gave me a thumbs up from her bedroom window…oh my God, here I go!

~*~

Soooooo--whadya all think so far? Eh? Hehe--isn't the new guy cute? And yes, I know, we don't know his name yet (as I have just been referring to him as 'the new guy', and no, I haven't seen that movie (yet).) I don't know why in the hell I've done that, but, um, I guess it adds "mystery"…or else I suck at coming up with names. Anyhow. I'm sure we'll find out what he's called eventually. More later. 

I changed 'a gun' to 'drugs,' sorry Wheetus, but its more apropo to my fic. And I might be adding my own lyrics later, depending.


	3. Tabletop Dances & Cheese Wheels

I love this chapter!!!!! I mean Bill and cheese? It's like, the perfect combination. :)

~Muchas gracias a Jill Elyse para sus buenas revistas!~

****

Ch.3-Tabletop Dances & Cheese Wheels

"What in the world is _that_, Bill?" Mid-way through their D&D gaming session Bill made the announcement that he had something to show his friends, and everyone clustered around the mystery lurking in his bottom sock drawer. He had pulled out a 12-inch circle of yellowish play-dough.

"Cheese," he said, is if it was totally and completely obvious.

"Why do you have a lump of cheese?" Neal and Sam were both incredulous--not to mention completely confused.

"It's not a lump, it's a wheel."

"Whatever! Why though?" 

"It's for Sheila."

"Sheila…?"

"Yea, she's the girl I'm going to ask to the dance."

"And you're going to give her cheese…"

"Yup."

"How in the world did you come up with that?"

"I dunno. I asked my mom and she said I should give her what I would want, and I like cheese, in fact everyone likes cheese, so I figured its perfect."

"O…k…"

"Don't you like cheese?"

"I guess."

"I like the kind that comes in the flat slices with the plastic wrap, but my mom said a wheel would be more romantic."

"Um, yea, sure, good luck Bill…let's just get back to the game, where were we? Oh yea, the barbarians were attacking…"

~

"Like my wheels?"

"What? Er, yea, they're great."

"'76 'Vett. Got it real cheap from this card, all it took was a little brass."

I have absolutely NO idea what he's talking about…is that normal for a date? I mean in all truths I've actually like, never really been on a date. Unless you count that singing thing with Nick, but that's like, you know, not really. This is really. This is very really. Oh god, I think he's babbling about his car? Quick! Make a generic comment, less chance of sounding stupid that way.

"Um, I love the color."

"Yea."

Silence. Crap. 

"So I know this band that's playing tonight, down in The Pit, that's where we're heading. I'm like, co-manager of the Fetal Pigs."

"Oh cool…I think I might have heard of them."

"Yea?"

"Er, yea." Right, ok, awkward silences, serious confusion, and a few white lies…this date is going perfectly! Sigh. But he's SO cute…I'm sure we must have _some_ common ground….

"So whaddya like?"

"You."

"What else."

"What else is there to like 'sides girls?" he asked, apparently confused.

"I dunno…music? Movies? Books?"

"Music is alright, and so are movies if they're not boring. I hate movies where nothing happens except people crying a lot cause someone's dying or whatever. It's cool when stuff blows up though…books, haha! You're funny babe," he shook his head and muttered, "books, yea right, who in the hell would want anything to do with those?" OK, so maybe he wasn't exactly the brightest crayon in the box…that's ok! He's probably like, really deep and meaningful and all, he just doesn't know how to express himself…I'm sure that's it. 

Wait…I don't even know his NAME!? Bloody hell!

"Um, what's your name? I guess I missed it."

"You can call me JD, babe," he smiled. And I smiled too. Tonight would be a night I'd always remember.

~

"What's eatin' you man?"

"What? Nothing."

"Yea sure. You haven't even lit up, I know something's up."

"I just don't feel like it alright? God," Nick muttered, frowning at his feet.

"Whatever man. Let's just go do something, yea? I'm bored as hell and you need to get your sorry ass off that bean bag and out the door."

"I just wanna stay here," Nick whined, his lower lip jutting out in a slight pout.

Daniel sighed, "I know where she is."

"What? Who? What are you talking about?"

"Lindsey. I know where she's going tonight with that new punk kid, Kim told me."

"W-what, what would I care? I don't give a damn about her, she can go out with whoever she wants…"

"She'll be at The Pit."

"What are you still sitting there for? Let's go!"

~

__

Maybe it was a mistake…but it was just a few harmless videos, right? Jean Wier thought to herself, pushing the tapes in the VCR. Harold was asleep, the kids were out, now was the perfect time to pop them in…

A calm, reassuring voice radiated from the speakers, "Hello. Thank you for ordering Volume One, we hope are services are beneficial. Now, down to business. Side one is for wives only. No men in the room? Are you sure? Good. Fellow female, we all know that men are no-good, dirty, cheating, lying rotten pigs! Nonetheless, we need them to father our children. Problem--yes. Can it be dealt with? Absolutely. Let's start with their capacity to maintain interest longer than five seconds-- in other words they're always getting bored! It's time to rock their world…please see the following attachment and follow all the directions carefully…"

~

Wow…just wow…this is SO amazing. I've never been clubbing before--it's like so much fun! Everyone's so happy, they're all dancing, and breathing, and living, and loving life, including me! I feel like I've never felt before, all bubbly and warm and happy…my laughter like escapes my mouth in giant pink bubbles! And I feel like I'm a million feet tall, like a goddess…who can touch the clouds! It's such an amazing feeling! I've never felt so good about myself in my entire life…and I totally belong…I just become ONE with all the people around me, everyone mushes together, and like all our hearts blend together…I love life!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

~

Nick coughed as he was flooded with a wave of haze and smoke, "Daniel what _is_ this place?"

"I dunno, I've never been here before."

"D'you see Lindsey anywhere?" He looked worriedly around, where was she? 

"Nope…oh hold on, there she is over there! Oh wait, that's not her…wow that chick has an ass like her though…I think I'll go over and say 'hi'…"

"Daniel! Would stop trying to pick up girls and help me find Lindsey?"

"Why man? The babes here are hot! 'Sides I'm sure she's fine…just chill out and enjoy--"

Nick cut him off mid-sentence, "oh…my…god…Daniel, Daniel look, is that, _is that Lindsey_?!?"

"Huh? Where?"

"THE HALF-NAKED GIRL DANCING ON THE FUCKIN' TABLETOP! SHE'S NOT THAT HARD TO MISS!!!"

"Oh, her. Um, yea, I think it is…wow she has a nice rack…"

"DANIEL!"

"What? Jeeze, calm down."

Nick shoved his way through the throng of bodies, leather, and smoke, to the outside ring of a group of college-aged guys jeering, leering, and making "suggestive" comments at the center attraction, a teenage-age girl without her shirt on. She was waving her top over her head, throwing her head back in laughter, her whole body moving with the music pulsing through her blood. Lights swirled over, around, under, and through her mind, as she floated on cloud nine. But suddenly she was falling, no, being pulled down, off the table, into some guy's arms. She vaguely registered angry cries of "Hey! What are you doing?! She's just having a little fun you fucking f*g!"

She felt herself being yanked towards the door, her body colliding with the skin and flesh of the dancers around her. Once in the cold night air some guy shook her, screaming into the darkness, "Lindsey? God Lindsey can you hear me? What did you take? Lindsey? LINDSEY!"

~ 

When I woke up my head was pounding, my throat felt scratchy and sore, and every single nerve in my body was being jabbed by sharp needles. Had I been run over by a stampede of elephants during the night and just like, didn't realize it?

Even though their was only a little strip of light filtering through the blinds it was enough to make me blink at the sudden exposure to brightness. OK--what in the hell happened last night?

I tried, despite my killer headache, to remember anything, everything, something! Ambiguous images floated into my mind…the door swinging open and JD stomping through, yelling something, I don't remember his words…some other guy was there, he started to yell too, everyone was yelling… Then the other guy's fist hurled into JD's face, and he flew backwards into the wall, and then there was blood _everywhere_, or at least it looked like it was everywhere… And then I was being slung over this new guy's shoulder and then I heard a car door slam and another guy was with us and then there we were at my house! And the back door was opened really slowly and I was giggling and the guys kept telling me to be quiet and then I felt my skirt slip off and I was under the covers and the guy, the one who carried me to his car, bent down and looked at me, really closely, and he looked so sad…his eyes were so sad, those big brown eyes…they seem so familiar…oh my god, NICK!!!

~*~

TBC…I'm almost done with finals (just had Chem today, woo-hoo!) and before you know it I'll be popping out chapters like, um, a super-duper-popper-outer-of-chapters-machine-thingy. Yea. Ok. Been studying too much. Gonna go to bed now, night everybody!

*Note: I absolutely did not mean to offend anybody with the angry college jerks from the club, it's just character dialogue (that's what they would say in real life, and I'm trying to make this story fairly accurate) sorry if I pissed anyone off, tell me in a review and I guess I can try and see if I can change the chapter or whatever, thanks for you're cooperation. 


End file.
